Broken Glass
by Seph Lorraine
Summary: Duo Maxwell hasn't ever fell, but when he finally does... He falls hard. Now he'll risk his own life just to ensure that he'll always be with the one he fell for... Whether in life or death.
1. Part I

- A/N - Hello, there. It's me. The fic you are about to read (I certainly you don't just waste your time opening and closing windows for entertainment) is one I wrote up on the spur of the moment. No, it's not finished, and with all of the other fics I have going presently, I don't know when I will be finished. After writing "Take Me", another GW fic (see profile), I decided that it just wasn't my place to write anything "romance" related. I simply suck at it. Though, since I slightly enjoy creating the stories in my head, I decided I would give it one more shot. Please be a good reader and review, eh? Your thoughts, opinions, flames, and critiques mean everything to me. Thank you  
  
- Disclaimer - Need it be said, I do not own the anime title under which you have reached this document. If you thought I did, I pity you.  
  
- Contact - IM me at Hoshichiri or e-mail me at Hoshichiri@aol.com.  
  
- Warning - Language may be inappropriate for younger viewers, 1 + 2 and 1 + 3 relations, Themes may seem suggestive, violent, or even gory in some places. Since I know half of FF.Net people reading this are under proper age scale for the rating of this fic, I will just say: ...Whatever.  
  
  
  
  
- † - Broken Glass - † -  
A . Gundam . Wing . Fic  
  
  
  
  
Let me teach you something about love. It dosen't exist.  
  
That's right. It's bullshit. Every syllable and letter in the phrase "I love you" is just trash. To think of all the breath humans waste, throwing out phrases like "I love you", makes my stomach vile and soured. It sickens me.  
  
How can one be expected to "love" someone? Don't they even know what love is? Nothing! The word is so morphed and manipulated that it no longer holds meaning. If you honestly say your emotions are so wide and deep for someone... How could you fit that into a four-lettered, two-syllabled word?  
  
Garbage. Damn them.  
  
  
  
  
Duo yawned and stretched on his bed, rolling over to glare at his alarm clock. He could feel the warm sun shining through the windows onto his bare back and assumed that he must have slept in a fair amount. The digital red letters glowed dimly, reading 1:17 PM. Time to get up.  
  
The Deathscythe pilot lazily pulled himself from bed to his black chest of drawers. He quickly slung around some clothes, grabbing a black NIN shirt and some sagging jeans. He slipped them on quickly, with a silver cross to adorn his neck. It didn't take Duo long to prepare for the day, but it did take him longer than anyone else.  
  
Standing before the mirror, he quickly began work on the most grueling task of all. His hair. He ran the brush through the chocolate strands roughly, untangling and straightening out the mess that was his hair. He pulled a black band from the drawer before him and began to braid, as fastly as was possible. He tied it with the band.  
  
Glancing at his still half-awake self in the mirror, he smiled.   
  
'Lookin' good, Maxwell.' He chided himself and started downstairs.  
  
  
  
  
The house seemed rather quiet as he moved to the kitchen. He glanced around the hallway before entering, everything completely silent. He glanced into the den.  
  
Empty.  
  
He glanced into the bathroom.  
  
Empty.  
  
He took a peek in parlor.  
  
Empty.  
  
He sauntered into the dining room.  
  
Empty.  
  
He dashed into the kitchen.  
  
Empty.  
  
Opened up the refrigerator.  
  
Empty.  
  
Duo frowned and let out a heartbroken sigh. He was alone in the house; left to starve. How could things get any worse? Easily.  
  
As the braided boy stood in silence, leaning his back against the refrigerator, a distant and silent sound was heard. It was quiet and clouded to his ears, as if a few rooms away. Duo moved out into the hall and stopped to listen.  
  
Tap. Tap. Tap.  
  
Still the sound wasn't distinct, so he quickly darted up the stairs and edged down the hall a little ways further.  
  
Tap. Tap. Tap.  
  
It was coming from Heero's room. In his half-awake curiosity, the braided pilot edged to glance through the cracked door.  
  
Tap. Tap. Tap.  
  
"Ah ha!" Duo slapped a hand over his mouth as Heero glanced away from the computer screen to glare at him.  
  
"Where have you been?" The Japanese boy's monotone voice showed just a tinge of annoyance at the disruption of his typing.  
  
"Sleeping, mother." A sarcastic reply, Duo swung the door open, walking in to plop down onto Heero's bed.  
  
Unlike Duo, the Japanese pilot was pretty good at keeping things sanitary. Sure, he didn't feel the need to iron his pants excessively, or make up his bed and vacuum every morning, but at least it wasn't like Duo's room.  
  
The American boy was accustomed to clothes and other items strewn about carelessly, CDs laying around without their cases, a broken bottle or two beneath the clothes on the floor, and god knows what was hiding under his bed. It was sterotypical of his character, you could say, but it was pleasing to him to know exactly where everything was in his room-- even if it meant a large mess.  
  
Duo glanced at the only items upon the carpeted floor. A pair of shoes. He silently made his own classification on the surroundings. 'The perfect soldier has the perfect room.'  
  
As soon as the American had seated himself on the bed, Heero shot a glare, and returned to his typing.  
  
"Don't worry, I'm not going to touch your 'stuff'-- Oh! What's that!?" Duo lurched from the bed to pic up a small black device from the dressertop. He turned it over in his hands and looked for a way to open it.  
  
"Put it down, Maxwell." The perfect soldier didn't turn from his work, but his voice was sharp.  
  
"Aa! It opens!" He plessed the small triangular button at the top edge, and the top snapped open. A pannel lifted from the top to reveal a screen with a signature password field waiting to be completed. Examining the keys, Duo glanced back at Heero who was up and just about to snatch the object from his grip.   
  
Duo jerked away and backed away a bit to continue looking. "Hey, what's your password."  
  
"Give it to me." Heero sharpened his Yuy death glare™ on the American.  
  
"Does this go to your gundam?" Duo paid no attention to Heero's glare.  
  
"Give it to me. Now."  
  
This time Duo looked up, smiling. "You'll have to catch me."  
  
Without a glance back in Heero's direction, the braided pilot bolted for the door. He was promptly pushed to the ground, stomach first.  
  
"Hey!" Duo shoved the device under his stomach, chuckling as Heero gripped his upper arms, with his knee digging into the braided pilot's spine. It was painful, yes, but who could deny the fun in aggrivating Heero Yuy?  
  
When Heero spoke his voice was menacingly low, and his knee dug harder into the American's lower backbone, his grip on the arms tightening. "Get up, or I'll make you regret it."  
  
"Ha! You're on top of me. How am I supposed to get up?" The braided pilot's smirk was wide. The only thing that kept Duo Maxwell sane was his ability to drive others insane. He took advantage of the ability in Heero, as very few, other than himself, succeeded in getting to the pilot. Heero was like the uptight older brother he had never had. "Remove yourself, filth." His tone was mocking.  
  
"Anything to get my boots out of the mud." And like that Heero was off of him, waiting to retrieve his... device.  
  
Still on the floor, Duo shot Heero an amused glance, "Lord save us. Heero has just learned how to joke." Quickly, he stood and ran for it again, device in hand and out of the Japanese pilot's room.  
  
A low growl was heard from Heero as he watched Duo run. He stepped into the hallway and listened for the sound in which way the braided pilot had gone. Why did Duo always have to play these damn games? Didn't he know how much Heero hated this? Of course he did. That's why he did it.  
  
Duo's running foot steps streaked down the stair and into the parlor. Running towards the sound, the Japanese pilot was off to destroy his opponent and win back his Wing mission log.  
  
He was in the parlor in time to see Duo rounding the sofa, and heading- with a cheery wave of his hand -into the dining room.   
  
When he was in the dining room, Duo was leaning with a smirk against the far wall, a table between them. He held up the black device and twirled it in his fingers, "So what is it, eh? Heero's digital little black book? What do you do on that computer all day, anyway? Cybering with naive little preteens in faroff countries?"   
  
Heero scowled at Duo, "It's a mission log for Wing."  
  
"How am I supposed to believe you? You could be lying." Duo stuck his nose up a bit.  
  
"I'm not."  
  
"Then what's your password, eh?" The braided pilot was practically beaming with delight in his little game.  
  
"No. Give it to me." Heero extended his hand.  
  
"Like I said before: You'll have to catch me." Now the pilot was waving the device around in a taunting manner, watching all the while as Heero slowy edged around the table. He wouldn't be fooled.  
  
"I've already caught you." The Japanese pilot replied.  
  
"Yes. Though you didn't retrieve your log did you?" He smirked and darted to the other side of the table, leaving Heero in the spot where he had been only moments ago. "Anyway, Hee-chan..."  
  
01 cringed and flared up his Yuy death glare™.  
  
Duo smirked and continued, "I thought you kept our mission logs in that computer of yours, eh?"  
  
"Those are the mission logs for all gundams. That one is just for Wing." Heero watched narrowly as Duo began to toss the object, carelessly, from one hand to the other.  
  
"Why? What extra information is needed?"  
  
Heero darted around the table and the braided pilot raced back into the parlor, quickly. As Duo approached the opposing entrance to the room, he turned to glance at the Japanese boy who was racing behind him, just in time to skid on the edge of on of Quatre's many rugs. He stumbled forward, hearing his ankle pop, and feeling a sharp pain. Without warning, he hit the floor, just as Heero stumbled down beside him.  
  
But, what was 'beside' from Duo's angle was actually on top of.  
  
Heero caught the floor with his palms, keeping himself above in the position of someone doing push-ups, and he looked down at Duo, who's eyes were shut tightly. "Are you OK?" His voice showed no real concern, but instead it was the same monotonious low.  
  
Duo looked up and opened his eyes. Widely. And, blinked. All he saw before him were two pools of frigid crystalline saphire. "I...I...I'm... er..." Whose eyes were these? Where they Heero's? They were so... beautiful. Like the stained glass of Our Lady's robes in the church he had grown up in. The braided pilot quickly shut his eyes again to block out the color, and instead focused on his ankle. "I...I think I hurt my ankle."   
  
There was a brief pause before the Japanese pilot responded. "Good."  
  
"Huh?" Duo blinked his eyes open in time to see the lovely blue disappear.  
  
Heero had snatched the mission log and pushed himself up to look down at the American, in a low glare. "You deserve it."  
  
The Japanese boy walked on back to his room, and left Duo to lay in pain.  
  
"Damn you, Yuy." Duo shot a glare at the retreating pilot's back. "Damn you to Hell." He growled under his breath.  
  
  
  
-------------------------------------------------» To Be Continued... 


	2. Part II

- A/N - Thank you for your reviews: Hitokiri Saizen Tamoru, Katana, Forever 1x2, shi-chan, and silvertoekee! They are very encouraging and very much appreciated. Here, our tale continues...  
  
- Disclaimer - No changes since last time. I still don't have any money, and they're still not mine.  
  
- Contact - IM me at Hoshichiri or e-mail me at Hoshichiri@aol.com.  
  
- Warning - Hark, same as in first chapter. :) Except... I have realized a typ I made in saying 1 + 2 and 3 + 4 relations... I said 1 + 3. -_- Forgive my inability to clarify my meanings with a keyboard. I have a favour to ask of anyone: Can someone tell me the numbers of everyone in GW? I know 1-Heero, 2-Duo, 3-Quatre (or Trowa), 4-Trowa (or Quatre), 5-Wufei, and that is where my knowledge ends. Could someone please enlighten me? Please?  
  
  
  
  
  
  
- † - Broken Glass - † -  
A . Gundam . Wing . Fic  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Our Lady loves us. She watches over and adores us. Our Lady Mary, mother of Jesus Christ the Lord. Glorify his name to all the world. Speak to Him for me, that I may see His face beyond my death.  
  
"Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee, bless'd art thou amoungst women..."  
  
My hypocritical faith. Who's to say I have no faith? You? Is your opinion of concern to me? Of course I have faith. I just don't have the kind of faith that is usual in your typical 15 year old. Sure, I was orphaned to a church, but it dosen't mean I'm a monk. Ha! God! What a funny thought.  
  
Could you imagine how you would truely feel to know some devine entity were watching and listening to your every action and thought? Would you feel untrusted? Useless? As the preists always say: God dosen't need us. He just wants us here. We're his toys to play with.  
  
God is a very cruel God. Shinigami agrees with me.  
  
  
  
  
After nearly an hour's work, Duo Maxwell had managed to somewhat gather himself from the floor, and pull himself onto the couch. His ankle was hurting rather badly, and the flesh tone was leaning towards that of grape. It wasn't very pretty.  
  
He relieved a sigh as he relaxed onto the couch. The twist wouldn't hurt so much in an hour; he would just wait it off with some TV.  
  
Just as he reached for the remote, he let out a groan. Damn Heero Yuy. The remote control was laying ontop of the TV.  
  
Now, thinking completely seriously for a moment: What kind of sick, sad, sorry, person lies their remote on the top of the TV? Does this not betray the purpose of having the device in the first place? So you don't have to get up and manually adjust the TV? What in sane hell is wrong with people and them thinking that tidiness should come before liesure? A remote is there so you can change the channels from away the TV, damnit! Stupid Quatre and his quirky way of house cleaning!  
  
Duo muttered a few curses as he made an attempt to lift from the couch. "Fuck you, Yuy... Gr..." The pain in his ankle seemed to throb and pulsate up to his midshin. He was probably going to need a doctor for this. There, something else wrong with the world: Doctors. Does it not disturb you the least bit to know that, that white suited man doping you up with pills and toxins, and looking around inside your body with sharp pointy objects calls this his "practice"? The braided pilot let loose a shudder at the thought.  
  
He painfully made it across the room to the TV, and grabbed the remote. Turning again, he made his way back to the couch, cursing like a sailor. He propped his leg up on the mahogany coffee table before him, and sat back, clicking the power button.  
  
Nothing.  
  
The American blinked and began to hit the button continuously. Anger was growing in his eyes and showed clearly on his face. He turned the remote over pulling off the battery hatch to find the area empty. He stared in anger, squeezing his fist, just trying to crush the device in his powerful grip. Unfortunately, his muscle wasn't that of a weightlifter and the device was still intact after Duo's three minute attempt at crushing the thing.   
  
Duo's anger was getting quite unbarable with the pain in his ankle and his futile attempt to crush the TV remote; to add to that Heero had just been a complete ass to him, and had offered no help to him in the hallway. The braided pilot, without thought, hurled the remote control at a lamp against the wall, across the room. It hit, knocking the lamp off to shatter on the floor, and a large dent in the wall behind. He had forgotten, that Quatre had spoken of it being a waste to have a functioning TV in the parlor, where the only one they ever used was in the den.  
  
He couldn't help that, now, as his anger was subsiding, he just wanted to weep in agony; like foolish child. Of course the braided pilot was much too proud to do such a thing, and could admit that he had been through worse, but we all know how it is in the frustration of the moment. Eventually, he calmed and laid back on to the couch in search of sleep; at least that way he wouldn't have to lay there and just feel the pain until Quatre or Trowa got back.  
  
Though, if you haven't tried, it's not exactly easy to get to sleep when you've been awake for barely half an hour, you've run a few laps around the house, haven't eaten, and just broken your ankle. So, being the man he was, Duo lay back and began to make Heero's life even more hellish than it already was.  
  
First he began with singing a quick verse or two of Starfuckers, Inc. by Nine Inch Nails. His voice was loud and unmelodic. "AND WHEN I SUCK YOU OFF NOT A DROP WILL GO TO WASTE!! IT'S REALLY NOT SO BAD, YOU KNOW, ONCE YOU GET PAST THE TASTE!!!" He took a shallow breath, "ASSKISSER!!! STARFUCKERS! STARFUCKERS INCORPORATED!"  
  
He then moved onto some less explict lyrics, "WHY DO GIRLS WANT TO PIERCE THEIR NOSE!!! AND WALK AROUND IN TORN PANTY HOSE, OH YEAH! SO GIVE ME ONE GOOD REEAASOOOOOON! WHY WE NEED TO BE LIKE THAT!!!" A little bit of Blink 182 to lighten his mood.  
  
Heero still hadn't made any responce from his room, and so Duo continued with his lungs of steel; this time we're trying some pop, "IF I COULD FALL, INTO THE SKY, DO YOU THINK TIME WOULD PASS ME BY!! BECAUSE YOU KNOW I'D WALK A THOUSAND MILES IF I COULD JUST SEE YOU!!" Another shall breath, "TONIGHT!!" The lovely talents of Vanessa Carlton, as performed by Duo Maxwell, ladies and gentlemen.  
  
There was no responce from Heero.  
  
Suddenly Duo grinned, he knew what would get to the Japanese boy. Let's try some opera, "IN SLEEP HE SANG TO ME!! IN DREAMS HE CAME!! THAT VOICE WHICH CALLS TO ME!! AND SPEAKS MY NAME!! BUT DO I DREAM AGAIN!! FOR NOW I FIND!!" He heard a door slam and heavy footsteps heading down the stairs, "THE PHAAAAAAAAAANTOOOOOOM OF THE OPERA IS THERE-"  
  
The singing pilot was most rudely interrupted as a pillow was thrown into his face. "Hey! That was uncalled for!" He moved the pillow and pouted at the Japanese pilot standing by the couch.  
  
With the Yuy death glare™ still in it's proper place, the boy sunk to his knees, wrapping his hand around Duo's exposed neck. He leaned over, his voice a dangerous, but still monotonious, low. "You will shut up, now, or suffer the consequences."  
  
Duo poked his lip out, cutely, and blinked at Heero with large bubbly eyes. "But I got bored, and there are no batteries in the remote, and I had nothing to-"  
  
"Duo."  
  
"-do because my ankle hurts really badly and I can't move to-"  
  
"Duo." The Japanese pilot dug his fingers into the soft flesh of the American's throat, quieting the braided boy and getting his complete attention, "You're over-exaggerating. You tripped on a rug; you didn't fall down the stairs. Your ankle will be fine."  
  
The pilot frowned, "But it still hurts..."  
  
"You'll just have to get over it. Now, stop yelling, and just go to sleep or-"  
  
"But, I can't go to sleep! It hurts!" Almost immediately as the words had escaped, everything went black and he felt himself falling into temporarily unconsciousness.  
  
Heero moved his hand from Duo's neck and quietly escorted himself back to his computer, upstairs, leaving the braided pilot to sleep off his pain.   
  
  
  
The first to see Duo in his condition, besides Heero, was Wufei. The petit Chinese man entered the parlor on his way to the kitchen and laughed at seeing the American's position on the couch. Duo's head was drooping from the seat, his braid curling upon the floor before him. His neck was very clearly in view and his body position showed it all to obvious. He outright laughed himself down the hallway. 'So Yuy finally took to just knocking him out. He must have been quite a bit more annoying than usual... He'll be dead by the end of the year, at this rate.'  
  
He slipped into the kitchen, calming his laughter as he opened the refrigerator door, and then he stopped all together. Empty. 'Damn that braided baka! It was his turn to do the grocery shopping, and he didn't do it!' He growled deeply, and glared at the door to the hallway, "I'll have his braid for this." He muttered under his breath.  
  
He was, of course, stopped by a tiny voice in his head, 'Only weaklings like the American would go to such extent at someone's trivial carelessness. Your weak enough, Chang, don't seep down to Maxwell's level.'  
  
The Chinese man calmed himself and quietly headed to his room for some much needed meditation.  
  
  
  
Quatre and Trowa finally arrived home from their shopping trip. Upon their entrance to the kitchen, they noticed the emptiness of the refrigerator and decided to go out and get the supplies themselves. The two both looked rather fragile and tired as they entered the kitchen. Quatre hadn't had his morning tea; nor Trowa his coffee. They both also looked rather sore when walking, but we won't dabble into that.  
  
You could have counted on the fact that Duo, had he been conscious, would have snickered upon their entrance with that all-to-familiar "I-know-what-you-did-last-night"-look in his shimmering violet eyes. Oh damnit, I said we wouldn't, be we just dabbled further into it. No further shall we go!  
  
As he entered the kitchen the blond boy was almost unnerved at the silence of the house, other than a distant tapping of keys in Heero's room. There had been no food, and yet Duo wasn't yelling, screaming, blasting music, or anything. He subconsciously wondered back down the hall to the doorway and yelled, "We've got food!"  
  
All was silent in the house.  
  
"Is anybody here?!" Quatre called again into the house.  
  
A door closed somewhere upstairs, and a groan came from the parlor. The parlor doorway, being right beside him, Quatre stepped in to see Duo out cold on the couch. A worried expression crossed his face as he walked over quickly to the couch, checked the man's eyes, and tapped him. Yes, the American had been knocked out.  
  
The Arabian stepped back into the hallway just as both Heero and Wufei were heading into the kitchen, "Halt."  
  
The Japanese boy quirked an eyebrow but lowered it again, seeing it was just Quatre, and Wufei blinked.  
  
"Which one of you did it?" Quatre pointed into the parlor and narrowed his eyes at the two before him.  
  
Wufei snickered and continued his walk into the kitchen, "I have new honour for your actions, Yuy."  
  
Heero glared passively and then focused on the blond before him.  
  
"Heero." Quatre shook his head, "You can't just go around knocking out your friends. Duo gets a bit hyperactive every once in a while- er... It's just his personality. You can't penalyze people for being themselves like this; it's a sign of predjudice. Don't ever do this again." The blond's stern face and set jaw showed that he, indeed, was completely seriously as he walked in again to Duo's side by the couch.  
  
The Japanese boy narrowed his eyes at the sight of Duo on the couch, unconscious. "He said his ankle hurt and he couldn't get get to sleep. I was just helping-"  
  
"Well, next time don't. Give him a sleeping pill or something. Just don't knock out your friends." Quatre shook his head walking past the Japanese boy and back into the kitchen to find some ice and cold water for Duo.  
  
"...Fine." Heero casually walked on into the kitchen with the others.  
  
  
  
Quatre had entered the parlor, leaving Trowa to do the cooking on his own. The American before him was just beginning to wake, with a headache, that kept him from reacting when Quatre began to lift Duo's ankle and yelled. "My God! What happened?!"  
  
There was a sharp twist to his fragile ankle, Duo felt as the blond lifted it, and suddenly his voice was back, "JesusfuckingChrist!"  
  
  
  
-------------------------------------------------» To Be Continued... 


	3. Part III

- A/N -Aa! So many reviews since last time! Thank you Wufeisgirl, April Aries, Forever 1x2, Kit, Artful~, Bonnie-Shae, firelight, arctic, Duo's ONLY Chick, Imp Gurl, and juliemoonstar, for your wonderful reviews! :) Also thank you April Aries for telling me the character numbers! I have been dying to know what they are for a long time, thank you. I had some really great reviews from you guys and I appreciate them alot! Thank you. Oh well, to direct yo something written in reviews... Artful~, the next few chapters are going to be where you see the "stereotype" crash. The meaning of the name "Broken Glass" for a title has more than one meaning in this story, and... I don't want to give anything away, so, I'll leave it there. Other than that your review kind of confused me. (Comparing this story to B&B is death to my writing. I can't seem to pick up on that story because my writing isn't the same as it was a few months ago when I began writing it. In fact, it appears to be going downhill. -_- I'm going to work on it, though...)  
  
- Disclaimer -Alright, I admit it, I OWN THEM! THEY'RE MINE...! *Watches nose extend a foot or two*  
  
- Contact - IM me at Hoshichiri or e-mail me at Hoshichiri@aol.com.  
  
- Warning - I know what you did last summer, so don't even go there. I have a toothbrush and I know how to use it! Aside from that: Our OOC rating is going to go a bit haywire in a moment... As it would when you watch soap operas for 5 hours straight for 4 days. :) No, not me. Duo.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
- † - Broken Glass - † -  
A . Gundam . Wing . Fic  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Life for me has been more than a soap opera. Life for me has been something of a box office bum. Didn't make the cut. The critics saw it, they hated it, they took it out of running for the big screen, and released it in a flmsy paper box. I didn't even get DVD release. "Too unrealistic!" They would say. "Too cliched!" That's my life for them.  
  
I guess that's why I am the way I am. Such thoughts are natural to me, but I'm trying to learn to avoid them. If I think naturally, they might lose interest in me, or worse, they might see who I am. But then again, I haven't seen myself for quite a while. Last time we visited it ended in an attempt at suicide.  
  
No, Shinigami won't be coming out to play anymore.  
  
  
  
  
Duo Maxwell bit down on his lower lip as an excruciating pain drove itself up his left leg. The feeling of railroad spikes being driven into his bruised ankle by a large hammer was enough to draw a small scream from the American, as Quatre quickly began to dab at it gently with the ice.  
  
"Sorry..." The blond muttered, as he sat on the edge of the table with Duo's leg laying across him. "Aa! Duo, you're going to need a doctor..." The blond's face was grey, as he looked up at his braided friend.  
  
A small crimson stream dripped smoothly from Duo's chin, as the American pilot's teeth dug into his thin lower lip. His eyes were tightly closed in a look of grim agony, as he shuddered violently under Quatre's touch. The boy probably hadn't heard a word the blond had said.   
  
"How did this happen, Duo?" Quatre's aquatic eyes frowned up at Duo from his position on the coffee table.  
  
Duo released his breath, surprised to find that he had been holding it, and gasped for a moment, opening slightly bloodshot eyes. He quickly brushed a hand up to wipe the crimson liquid from his lower jaw. "It's that rug." He jerked his head in the direction of the long floral rug, set upon the hardwood floor, leaning into the doorframe. It was slightly rumpled at the edge, as small evidence to back up his case. "Heero was chasing me to get his... thing back, and I skid on that damn rug!"  
  
The Arabian boy resisted the urge to laugh, "Duo, you've got to do something about your clumbsiness." His eyes smiled as he shook his head.  
  
'OK, is it just me, or was that NOT funny? I'm not that clumbsy-' Duo pouted childishly, resisting the urge to growl.  
  
"I told you putting that rug there was a bad idea." Trowa stepped in, quietly, a tray in his hands with some tea and lemon. "Looks like I have proven my point."  
  
The tall boy's jade green eye seemed to peer almost happily at the two from his narrow oval face. Of course, his expression was hidden by the auburn strands concealing the other side of his face. He walked silently to set the tray beside Quatre, upon the smooth top of the coffee table, and turned to leave again.  
  
"Well the room needed some sense of coziness. It looked so hard and cold." Quatre hardly looked up from examining Duo's ankle, with his responce. "Remind me to have carpet put in this summer, eh, Trowa?"  
  
The heavyarms pilot nodded as he walked through the door and back to the kitchen.  
  
"Well. Let's have the one responsible take you to get this checked." Quatre looked up to yell for-  
  
"Aw, that's OK, Q-man. I can get someone else to take me. Thanks for the offer, though." Duo smiled broadly, "I'll be fine, anyway. I'm sure I don't need to go to a doctor." The American tried to conceal the nervous chuckle that arose in his throat.  
  
Rolling his eyes and sighing, the Sandrock pilot looked to the doorway and called, "Heero! Will you drive Duo to get his ankle checked?"  
  
There was mild laughter heard from the kitchen, and footsteps in the hallway. Finally, the Japanese boy entered the doorway, "...No way. Him? In a car? How am I supposed to drive? He'll be fine, just let him rest it off on the couch." The 01 pilot's voice showed a tinge of irritation as he watched duo's face turn into a wide smirk.  
  
Yes, this would be the perfect revenge. Duo couldn't help but smile viciously as the Japanese pilot argued the matter over with Quatre. Of course, Heero ended up giving in, and it was decided he would take Duo to the doctor's office after breakfast. This was going to be fun.  
  
Strangely, the American suddenly felt the need to keep a bit of peace in the house, at least until he got into the car with Heero. Then the wildness would begin. Though after a short hour, he seemed to be forming a headache of sorts. From being knocked out earlier, and the pain in his leg, he assumed. He couldn't bring himself to do anything but lay in an attempt and rest until Heero was ready to leave.  
  
The pain in his head seemed to be throbbing by the time Heero entered the parlor. If he was confused at Duo's silence, he carefully concealed it as he stood by the couch and looked down at the man. The American's eyes were closed lightly, and his breathing was shallow. Maybe he was asleep?  
  
The Japanese boy's gaze lingered for a moment at the American's peaceful form. Duo had lightly pale skin, smooth and soft on the eyes, long black lashes lined his rounded eyelids, closed softly over shimmering violet eyes. Lightly tented pink lips, not too thin, lined his slightly parted mouth as whispery breaths drew in and escaped once more. His braid lay over his neck, over his lightly moving chest, to curl at the tip on the surface of the couch he laid on. Before too much time had gone by, Heero stopped and mentally kicked himself for staring.  
  
Leaning forward, he shook Duo's shoulder gently, but enough to awaken attention from the boy. The American's eyes snapped open and he glanced up at Heero for a second, meeting the Wing pilot's eyes for merely an instant before looking to his ankle and beginning to pull himself up. Almost in a sitting position, a violent storm began to rampage within his head, and he was down again before he could remember.  
  
He let loose a small groan, and bit down upon his lip again, as the storm began to do it's damage within the confinements of his head. This couldn't be a good sign, no not at all.  
  
Heero blinked, mildly, staring down at the braided pilot. "Problems?"  
  
"Aye..." A hissing sound escaped Duo's clenching teeth.  
  
Seeing this wasn't getting them anywhere, nay would it any time in the near future, Heero did the only thing he could do in such a situation. "Hold on." He leaned down, hesitating slightly, before slipping an arm under Duo's back, and behind his knees. The American's eyes fluttered open with a look of shock as he was lifted from the couch by Heero Yuy, to be carried out.  
  
The Japanese pilot held Duo up, against his chest, and began to walk from the room. He managed it, all the way out to the car, eloquently, and left Duo to seat himself properly and belt himself in the passenger's side, while he walked around to climb in on the right driver's side. He ignored the waves of shock emitting from the braided pilot beside him in the automobile, and began to back out as Duo fastened his seat belt.  
  
Leaning his head softly against the back of the seat, Duo shut his eyes again. Had he just been carried over the threshold by the stoic pilot Heero Yuy? This was turning out to be an unusual day. He shuddered as the air vents blasted against him, and leaned forward to quickly shut it off. "What are you trying to do, eh? Make me into an ice cube?" Duo muttered quietly, leaning his head lightly against the window, and propping his arm up on the door's handles.  
  
Heero didn't seem to pay him any attention as he drove silently. He was so much like a robot, that it was, at times, frightening to ponder over. His emotionless face stayed in the same blank expression, as he handled the automobile controls mindlessly. What did he think about so often that kept him so quiet?  
  
Feeling his headache lighten up the tiniest amount, he registered once more, their destination. "The doctor?" He blinked, suddenly forgetting all of his pains, and he glanced at Heero, who hadn't moved. "We're going to the doctor?"  
  
"Hn." The Japanese boy grunted, still unmoving.  
  
"But you said I would be fine if I didn't go, eh? Let's just go somewhere else and say we went, eh?" Duo knew his roughly devised plan was desperate, but he shuddered at the thought of doctors.  
  
"We'll be there soon."  
  
"No! I can't go to a doctor!" Duo turned in his seat, cringing at the twist it made on his ankle. He looked up at Heero, eyes large and tinged with fear, "You can't take me there, Heero!"  
  
Glaring sidelength at the boy whining in the seat beside him. "You're going to the doctor."  
  
"But-" Near the point of panic, the American began to beg, "Doctors don't know anything! It's a waste of money! Please don't make me-"  
  
"We're here."  
  
The blue-eyed boy had to carry his injured comrade into the hospital by the same way he had gotten him out of the house. It wasn't nearly as shocking to the braide pilot as it had been the first time, luckily. The braided boy had been about to faint of surprise... And that's not cool. Also occupying his mind this time, was the panic of seeing a doctor.  
  
The waiting room was fairly quiet, a few coughs were supplied into the oxygen from waiting patients, but the room wasn't too full. Heero placed Duo in a seat right beneath one of the TV monitors supported high on the wall above him. He frowned, obviously not happy about being placed in an area unable to view the screen. Glaring, Heero lifted him again and set him down across the isle in the opposite chair. Front row seat. Duo seemed pleased and playfully patted the growling pilot's messy crop of hair.  
  
Duo then turned his attention to the TV.  
  
['But Sandra! I love you! Can't you see that I always have? I need you to help me break it to Ran when he gets back.'  
  
'But... Rebecca... I need to confess that I...'  
  
'Yes...?'  
  
'I'm pregnant...'  
  
*Gasp*  
  
'And Ran's the father...'  
  
'You bitch! He was mine before he ever laid eyes on you-'  
  
'I know! I'm sorry! But I... I still love you!']  
  
The pilot rolled his eyes, suddenly wishing he were back under the TV unable to view such idiocy. Though, Heero had already gone to sign him in.  
  
Coming back from the window with a clip board, he thrust it into Duo's hands to fill out himself. "I probably wouldn't know any of this stuff."  
  
Scanning over the sheet, Duo noticed most was filled out except for health questions, and questions about relative family, etc. etc., except he noticed one... Male or Female was left blank and he shot a glare at the pilot across from him, under the TV. "A very bad joke on your part."  
  
He paused seeing a flicker of amusement cross Heero's face, but it was quickly gone, and he turned back to the sheet slightly puzzled. He calmly filled out what he could, careful to leave the relative fields blank, and held the board out to Japanese boy infront of him.  
  
Without words, Heero stood and took the clipboard back to the nurse.  
  
['Sandra... I... I didn't know you were in town.'  
  
'Cut the act, Ran, it's yours.'  
  
'What!?'  
  
'I'm going to have your baby Ran... Just another 8 months.'  
  
'Why didn't you tell me?!'  
  
'Because I was afraid of what you would say... I don't love you! I love Rebecca.'  
  
'No! Rebecca, I thought that you and I...'  
  
'I still love you Ran, but I love Sandra too...'  
  
'What? You still love him, too?'  
  
'Yes...'  
  
'Well, I have news for both of you... Elise and I are engaged.'  
  
'Elise? But what about Philip... He was just murdered a week ago!'  
  
'I murdered Philip. She told me that if I killed him we could be together forever...']  
  
The Death Scythe pilot haden't noticed Heero sitting across the isle from him again, and was jerked out of his stupor on the TV, when he heard his name called. "Maxwell, Duo."  
  
Heero stood and walked over to gather his fellow pilot and carry him to the door by which the woman stood, who had called his name. "It's time."  
  
"Wait... I think Rebecca's going to figure out that Elise is also plotting the death of her lover, Susan, because Rebecca told Elise about Sandra's baby before she knew Elise had had Ran murder Philip..." Duo blinked, suddenly realizing what he had just said, "Er... Lift?"  
  
Blinking in mild confusion, the Japanese pilot gently lifted Duo from the seat and carried him on to the doctor's room.  
  
The walls were a dull white, bland and dented in some areas. Tools and objects were neatly hidden within the drawers of a large counter beside the odd clinical bed in which Duo sat at the edge of. The room smelled of rubber from the gloves doctors wore during examinations. A florescent light shown above, nearly blinding when the American glanced upwards towards the grey-tiled ceiling. Hospitals were such gloomy places.  
  
When the doctor entered, she gave a friendly smile in Duo's direction, bowing properly towards Heero in a chair in the corner, and took a seat on the stool by the cabinets.  
  
"Good afternoon, Mr. Maxwell, I'm Dr. Guice." Her smile was enhanced by a set of shimmering white teeth, that seemed to glow like the whites of her eyes. The shames of florescent lighting. She turned her smiling face to Heero, who sat stoically in the corner, and leaned forward, "And whom might you be?"  
  
"Heero Yuy." His tone was flat as his voice remained monotonious.  
  
"Aa, I see. Are you of any relation to Mr. Maxwell?" She glanced down at Duo's forms and back at Duo, who shook his head in Heero's reply.  
  
She paused for a moment and glanced at the the Japanese boy, "Just friends?"  
  
A blank stare, with a mix of confusion stared back at the doctor from both boys.  
  
"Lovers?" Her brow twitched slightly at the boy in the corner.  
  
A deep hugh spread across Duo's face and he lowered his head, hoping to hide his blush. Not knowing what to do, he forced himself to chuckle, and finally laugh out loud. He couldn't see it, but he felt the icy glare of Heero Yuy upon his slumping form.  
  
"Roomates... Housemates... Whatever." Heero bit his tounge, realizing his struggle with the words, and blocked away any images the question of Duo being his lover had ungratefully given him.  
  
Duo slowly gained back his calmness from the burst of laughter, forced or not, and bit his lower lip again, 'Wow... We're not even friends...' It was a thought he hadn't ever paid much attention to and it surprised him at the way the topic had so subtly approached and disappeared. 'We're just roomates...' He blocked away the frown that tempted to cross his lips, and looked up, smiling.  
  
"Right... So, what seems to be the problem, Mr. Maxwell?" She tilted her head, and crossed her legs, waiting for an answer from the man before her.  
  
"It's my ankle... I slipped on a rug and, now it kinda hurts..." He swung up his left leg, gently, pulling back his pants leg to reveal the purple, swollen ankle. He couldn't help but hearing a small gulp from Heero's direction. At a sidelength glance, he saw some sort of guilty look bury itself in Heero's face.  
  
"Kind of?" The doctor raised an eyebrow and ran her fingers across the spot, softly. As Duo hissed in obvious pain, and clenched his fists around the clothe of his pants leg, she scrathed a thing or two onto the paper. "I think you may have a break, or atleast a fracture. We'll need to perform some x-rays." She stuck the pen behind the metal clamp of her board, and walked to the closet, where she pulled out a collapsible wheelchair. "We need to get you to the x-ray room. Get in."  
  
The Death Scythe pilot didn't realize he was frowning at the sight of the chair, until he glanced at Heero, and the pilot made his best attempt to mask a look of confusion. "Do I have to?"  
  
The doctor shook her head. "You have to ride in the wheelchair."  
  
"Damnit." His violet eyes shot a glare at the device, and he hopped off of the clinical bed, catching himself on his right foot. He hopped on one leg to the chair where the doctor helped him lower into the seat, and prop up his leg.  
  
"Off we go." The doctor smiled and began to wheel out of the room. She paused and glanced bay at trhe Japanese man in the corner, now standing. "And you may return to the waiting room until Mr. Maxwell is ready to leave."  
  
In the chair, Duo swung his head around to see Heero nod, and begin towards the door. "Does he have to?"  
  
The Wing pilot paused and shot a small glare at the American.  
  
The doctor nodded, "No one but patients and personel are allowed any further on this floor. Mr. Yuy will need to return to the waiting room."  
  
"But I don't want to go by myself." Suddenly, he was begging?  
  
Heero hardened his glare, and turned, beginning his walk back to the waiting room, "I'll be waiting."  
  
Dr. Guice slowly wheeled the American down the hall to the x-ray lab, parking him at the door, to enter and set things up, first.  
  
Duo frowned at the chair he was sitting in. He had grown much more accustomed to having the Wing pilot carry him. Even if he had only done so about three times. Mentally kicking himself for that thought, he began to focus on more important things. Like a stain of red blood upon the wall beside him.  
  
  
  
Heero took a seat in the waiting room, and looked up to the TV monitor. Some generic soap opera was running across the screen, and no one was really paying attention. Why did they even bother to have it on? Was Duo actually watching this trash?  
  
[ 'Marcus, Rebecca has told me about your sister.. What she did!'  
  
'Elise is innocent! He... He... He made it up! Ran is a fraud! He's after Elise for our money and the family fortune, can't you see? Rebecca only knows what Ran has told her.'  
  
'But poor Philip... I loved him! Even if he did always look away from me to Ran. I loved him... Now he's dead, and he'll never know! He'll never know how I felt! How I feel! Oh, Marcus...'  
  
*Kiss*  
  
'Marcus?'  
  
'I love you, Anna.'  
  
'But... You love..'  
  
'I've always loved you. I always will. You think I didn't see all the times Philip looked away from you? Think of everytime you've ever been turned down by Philip! I've always been there for you! It's because I love you, Anna.'  
  
'But, I... I don't feel the same... I loved Philip.'  
  
'I can understand...'  
  
'You can?'  
  
'No!'  
  
*Gun shot*  
  
'AH!!!'  
  
'I'm sorry, Anna. We could have been so happy together!']  
  
The Japanese pilot blinked, standing from his seat and just turning the TV off. Around him, several patients blinked, not really caring, but they had nothing else to do. The boy sat down again, and set himself to wait until the doctors were done with Duo.  
  
  
  
Duo was wheeled into the waiting room after two hours by a nurse, who was followed closely by Dr. Guice, who smiled upon entrance and called out to him, "Mr. Yuy."  
  
Heero stood, stretching slightly, and quietly walked over to where the three waited in the hallway. Upon arrival he noticed Duo's downcast look. Litterally he was looking down to his cast. A black cast, rather small, was positioned tightly around the American's ankle and lower leg. From the look his "roomate" gave, Heero could only assume it was very displeasing to Duo.  
  
"He's had a cast put on, as you can see. Luckily the break isn't too bad, but he will have to wear the cast for a while. I have had a call from Mr. Winner establishing that all other medical terms are to be handled by a Ms. Sally Po." She paused and waited for Heero to affrim that he knew the person in questioning, "He will have to return to us to have the cast removed and a quick checkup, but other than that, he's free to go."   
  
From his seat in the wheel chair, Duo looked up, pouting playfully, "Doc? Am I ever gonna walk again?"  
  
The doctor laughed softly, and nodded, excusing herself to her other patients.  
  
"Heero..." Duo looked up, eyes large with a over-dramatic worry, "It was hell. You can never let me come back again."  
  
"Baka." The Japanese pilot simply stood, staring at him in an emotionless glare.  
  
"I'm hurt." Was the American pilot's joking responce.  
  
"I'm glad." Heero's voice was flat, his bordem for the last two hours showing on his voice.  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
"You should be."  
  
"Heero... I don't have any crutches yet, and I refuse to sit in the wheel chair any longer." Duo's eyes drifted off as he wrapped a finger around a long strand of chestnut hair, free from his braid. "How am I getting to the car?"  
  
The American didn't even need to glance at the boy beside him, he could already feel the arctic chill of the Yuy death glare™ penetrating his skin. Next thing, though, he was up off of his feet, and against Heero's chest as the Japanese boy headed towards the car.  
  
  
  
All was leisure for the braided baka throughout the next few weeks, in which the other residents of Quatre's safe house discovered the result of over-exposure to soap operas. Duo was confined to the large sofa in the den by the blond-haired Arabian, where he was stuck with nothing to do, but order others around, and watch daytime TV. Niether of which were very amusing after the first 10 days.  
  
"Wufei! The Bold and the Beautiful comes on in three minutes! Come change the channel for me!" A lazy call echoed down the halls from the den.  
  
"No! Use the remote!" An angry call from upstairs.  
  
"Quatre, the idiot, put it on top of the TV again!"  
  
"Why do you keep doing that, Quatre?! Where is the justice-"  
  
"It looked tacky on the floor!"  
  
"Who puts the remote on top of their TV?"  
  
"Someone! The Bold and the Beautiful! Change the channel."  
  
After many endless conversations of the like, being screamed throughout the house, he finally decided he would rather do things by himself, anyway. No one else wanted to spend time with him. Quatre only came in to make sure he was doing OK, but otherwise, the braided boy was completely neglected of attention. He took refuge in the lives of Rebecca, Marcus, Sandra, Ran, Philip (now dead), Elise, Ken, Diane, Carl, and Anna (now dead) of the legendary teen soap "Abstinance Academy Home of the Trojans".  
  
"Oh my Gods! Ken is actually the father! Not Ran! Yes... Er... No! This means Ran died in vain when Elise found out that he was baby Ashley's father! No! He was so cool!"  
  
"We need to do something about Duo." Quatre looked a bit pissed on thursday afternoon, as Duo was raving about the latest happenings on TV.  
  
The only member of the room, aside from the blond boy, simply "Hn"ed, and glanced at the door leading into the den.  
  
"Don't you care that one of your friends is sitting in there all alone wasting his life on stupid soap operas with oxymoronic titles?" The Arabian slammed his cup of tea down, rather hardly, and fromed when the handle broke off.  
  
"Why should I?" Heero turned, and began up the stairs, "He's old enough to do what he wants with his life."  
  
Within the den, Duo frowned, at the conversation in the hallway.  
  
  
  
It was late that evening when Quatre entered the den to find Duo alone on the couch in darkness. All of the lights had been turned out, the TV was off, and Duo simply laid back on the couch, staring into the shadow before his weary violet eyes.  
  
"Duo?" The blond pilot stepped into the room, "What are you doing in here?"  
  
The American made no responce, but instead stayed still.  
  
Quatre walked in and took a seat on the couch by his fellow pilot, shaking him by the shoulder, incase he was asleep. The Death Scythe pilot was not asleep, though, as was apparent when he looked over, wide awake, at Quatre. "Is something wrong?"  
  
Duo blinked, and sunk lower into the couch, making no responce.  
  
"Are you feeling ok?" Brushing his small hand against the braided boy's forhead, he seemed to pick up a normal temperature. Whatever it was, it wasn't illness. "Duo? What's wrong?"  
  
"Nothing..." The violet-eyed boy straightened himself on the couch, sitting up, and sighed lightly. "I was just thinking about..."  
  
Seeing that the boy wasn't going to continue, Quatre prodded him further. "About..?"  
  
Duo took a breath, quickly, "Q-man... Do you and Trowa... Do you guys... Well..." He took a glance around nervously, "Do you guys... love... each other?"  
  
Puzzled by the origin of the question more than the meaning itself, the Arabian blinked in mild confusion, slightly taken aback that Duo would ask him such a thing. "Yes... Yes we do." He turned away from his fellow pilot, moving his gaze to a spot on the floor below him. "Why?"  
  
Now it was Duo's turn to be taken aback. "Oh... I don't know. Ever since the doctor asked me something, I've just beem thinking..."  
  
"I thought you were watching soap operas." Quatre quirked and eyebrow. "What did the doctor ask you?"  
  
"Um... Nevermind. Oh... Nah... I can't stand daytime TV." Duo drifted back into his state of deep thought, staring blankly at the blackness. Silent.  
  
"Oh... Well I'm going to bed. If you need anything, just call, OK?" The boy stood and left as soundly as he had come. Though, his mind ached with questions. Duo was acting strangely tonight. He claimed to hate daytime TV, yet it sounded as if he actually were watching the shows. What had Duo been thinking about, anyway?  
  
  
  
  
-------------------------------------------------» To Be Continued...  
  
- A/N - This fic had a bit of extra information in it, ya know, excess stuff that isn't there for any real reason. The soap opera stuff will be pulled into the story later, but right now it seems kind of useless. I know some of the spelling really sucks, and this is probably one of the worst chapters I'll ever do, but, I would really like to know what you think anyway. I know nothing about breaking limbs, since I have never done so myself, so forgive me if the way Duo's ankle all works out is a bit... stupid? I still have to get to the GOOD part. :)  
  
PS: What did you think of the silly made up soap opera, eh? 


	4. Part IV

- A/N -Oh no... I'm beginning to get the idea that people are liking this fic. O_O I'm extremely honoured. Thank you, Ryoko-onee, Minako Maxwell ³, April Aries, and Karasuko for your lovely reviews. :) April Aries, if you haven't seen more than about 15 minutes of a soap opera, you're missing out. Sheer hilarity, I say. I have, many a time, suffered through such lame shows as Passions, Bold and the Beautiful, and Young and the Restless. Yes, I hated it, but it's almost hilarious just to watch and see those people act so foolish... "The doctors say he's going to die.. I'm sorry! It's just the clusters in his brain are taking over! There's nothing we can do!" -_-;; A great way to waste your time.  
  
- Disclaimer -If everything I say is a lie, then I own them.  
  
- Contact - IM me at Hoshichiri or e-mail me at Hoshichiri@aol.com.  
  
- Warning - I'm just going to twist somethings around here, and you're going to think I've lost my mind. Which I have, but this chapter might be a bit... Er, morbid, and strangely enlightening...? If it can be both at once, eh?  
  
  
  
  
  
  
- † - Broken Glass - † -  
A . Gundam . Wing . Fic  
  
  
  
  
  
  
You called yourself an angel, when you knew there was no heavan for me. Where you purposely trying to remain higher than me? The pristine shimmer of arctic winds, I have seen in your frigid gaze. Your eyes burn through my own, morphing and manipulating my body into... Him.  
  
Is that who you're trying to see? Him?  
  
You're gaze lingers as the hard, freezing, blues of your eyes seem to narrow. Though you make no responce to me, I know what you see. You see him. Beneath me. Inside me. You see me, when no one else will. You see me and all I have to hide.  
  
Was my mask to thin? To stretched or clear? Or did you find a hole that I'd forgotten to close? I know I can't ask you; you still hold my gaze. You are an angel to see so clearly through this dim light. You are higher in the heavans, nonexistant to any source of my being's power. I am a lowly, faceless, wanderer, with the mask of a clown. And you see that, don't you?  
  
Heero, please answer me...  
  
  
  
  
The darkness of the room parted for a passing glow, as the hall light flickered through the doorway. Wavering beams of a dying bulb hazed upon the carpet of the den, where the braided pilot lay, restless upon the messy sofa. Surely, he had remained in the darkness for a long while since Quatre had left his side, earlier that evening. He was silent, his violet eyes flickering a low gaze at the light upon the carpet.  
  
Nearly silent footsteps patted softly down the hallway. Their coordinated weight shifting seemed to eliminate all possibilities of who was roaming through the hallways so early in the morning. The perfect soldier. Heero's attempts at silent footstepping was largely successful, but lazy for one such as himself. Perhaps he gave no piece of mind to waking up the braided pilot, supposedly asleep in the den.  
  
The cabel connection box, set below the TV with the VCR and DVD, had a small corner of illumination sent by the time 2:47:36 AM in digital yellow numbers. The boy on the sofa sighed lightly, and rolled over to hug the pillow beside him, up close to his chest loosely. He stretched his neck, burying his face into the pillow's soft covering, in attempt to wipe away the beads of sweat covering his hot face and neck. He ignored the covers still pulled up to his shoulders, and his hair, sticking lightly to the sweaty skin of his bare back.  
  
He was in no sense asleep, instead he only lay in silence. Thinking.  
  
The footsteps in the hallway paused as the den's silent occupant made only a few light noises, accompanied by a sigh, as he turned on the sofa. In what seemed to him as dim curiosity, he made a light step into the den, eyes of chilling winter peering through the darkness to the form that lay upon the couch. He paused as he noticed the two violet orbs that watched him back with a calm gaze... devoid of any visable thought or emotion.  
  
"Duo...?" Heero's voice was a low whisper, watching the boy upon the couch in a chilling stare.  
  
The boy upon the couch simply stared back in a dark gaze. His violet eyes seemed dark in the ways he made no responce, and their gaze lingered slightly clouded to the point of mischevious thinking. Was there some wicked reminence flashing behind his dark gaze? Maybe this is just how Duo was at night... Dreaming with his eyes open.  
  
Heero made a low grunt as he turned to exit, until Duo's voice spoke in a light whisper.  
  
"Have you ever..." The silent voice drifted off, unwilling to finish his beginning.  
  
The boy at the door turned in littel effort to look back at Duo's dark violet gaze. "Huh?"  
  
"Have you ever had a connection to someone...?" The dark stare had not flickered in hint to what the American was thinking. "Where you saw things... they were trying to hide...?"  
  
Mild puzzlement was concealed in crystalline blue eyes as the Japanese pilot, entered farther into the darkness of the den. "What do you mean, Duo?"  
  
"...Can you see when someone is laughing, that there are tears inside? Have you ever seen what someone was holding in, when they were too weak to show it?" Duo's voice gained only little volume as he seemed to sink deeper into the large blanket surrounding him.  
  
"Go to sleep, Duo." Heero's monotonious voice was low, but stern. He turned to leave once more.  
  
"You're not as perfect as they say you are." Duo no longer bothered to keep his voice low, and when Heero glared back over his shoulder, the pilot had lifted from his comfort upon the couch, and walked briskly by him, and out into the hallway before him.  
  
"Wha...?" The Japanese pilot couldn't restrain the look of obvious puzzlement that flashed over his features at the statement.  
  
A wicked gleam flashed through violet eyes, as the Death Scythe pilot laughed darkly. "You're blind, Yuy..." He didn't soften his footsteps, dragging himself into the kitchen with almost a psychotic aura about him. "It's not a good trait for the 'perfect' soldier." More dark laughter followed.  
  
Heero's eyes narrowed at the apparent insult. What was Duo talking about? Watching the braided man enter the kitchen, he stepped in, searching for some kind of hint as to what was going on. This wasn't the avergae Duo he knew. "I can see fine..." He paused, "Is something wrong Duo?"  
  
"You would like to think so." The drawer of silverware screech open, as pale, slender, fingers pulled from it's depths, a glistening knife. "It would be logical answer to my illogical actions, eh?" He glanced back at the confusion apparent in Heero's eyes.  
  
"There's a logical reason for everything-" Heero's voice was flat and stoney.  
  
"Ha!" Duo's voice was cold and harsh, as he cut in. He turned from the counter, twisting the blade slowly through his fingers, his violet eyes fixed Heero in their dark gaze. "You really are blind, aren't you? Either that or you're too fucking slow!" The dull edge of the blade ran smoothly across the soft skin of Duo's wrist. He laughed, seemingly discusted with the Japanese pilot. But, for what?  
  
"I'm not blind. There's something wrong with you, Duo, and you're taking a bit irrational-" Once again he was cut off.  
  
"Not blind, you say?" With one fleeting moment the knife had moved to his right hand, jerking the braid out with his left, he took a clean swipe with the blade, and the braid fell to the floor like a dead snake.  
  
Heero was speechless and couldn't control the look of horror that had clouded his pristine blue eyes. Something was seriously wrong here.  
  
"You didn't see that coming, did you?" The Death Scythe pilot smiled, a psychotic gleam in his shining violets. "You thought I was just playing around, perhaps? Or maybe, you thought I was going to cut my wrists? Some 'perfect soldier' you are. Perhaps there is something wrong with me. Why should you care? You said yourself, I am old enough to do what I want with my life. And, I assure you, I will."  
  
Eyes glinting wickedly, Duo crossed to the doorway, standing before the instilled Wing pilot. He leaned forward, wrapping his left arm smoothly around the back of the Japanese boy's neck and pulled himself to be face to face with his victim. No further warning was released as Duo leaned forward crushing his lips softly against those of the Japanese pilot.  
  
The harsh kiss was over quickly, and Duo did not linger to hear Heero's thoughts, or witness his actions. He simply slid down the hallway, and into the den. Marking his absence with a rather loud slam of the door.  
  
Heero stood alone, head spinning wildly as he grasped for a small bit of the reality that had just escaped him. His gaze settled finally on the detatched braid of Duo Maxwell, as it lay upon the floor.  
  
  
  
-------------------------------------------------» To Be Continued...  
  
- A/N - My cat is bulemic. 


	5. Part V

- A/N -Wow, janine seems to have pricked my idea, though to answer Karasuko's review: It mentioned back there that it had been a few weeks since the visit with the doctor (in chapter 3) so he could walk on it by now (though that is somewhat cleared up in here). You'll just have to read it. -_- I feel predictable... Anyway, why would we want Duo to loose his precious braid? ...Yet. :) Thank you to: Agonia, janine, Karasuko, imbri2001, juliemoonstar, ShiTiger ², Imp Gurl (I've never been so confused by a review in my life O_o), Karie Goto (Bwee! Foreign language number lessons! Thank you! That makes things easier to remember.), Kit, Ryoko-onee, QueSeraSera, Forever 1x2, Akira Maxwell, RoMayDrako, and Audrey for their lovely reviews! I've never blushed so much in my life. Thank you!  
  
Also, for the reason of this storie's delay, I am getting over a case of writer's block that has been rather harsh to me, lately. It took me a full day to write this chapter, and so I'm not sure if it's going to be all that good, sense I still feel mentally blocked. I'm sorry for the delay, and I'm just warning you that there might be another in waiting for part 6. Sorry.  
  
- Disclaimer - Who here owns the G-boys? *Crickets chirp* Just as I suspected.  
  
- Contact - IM me at Hoshichiri or e-mail me at Hoshichiri@aol.com.  
  
- Warning - Is it me, or are my warnings becoming second author's notes? A little hint of advice for reading: this chapter is really cool when read to "When the Stars Go Blue" by the Corrs. It's just some weird sounding background music. Heh...  
  
  
  
  
  
  
- † - Broken Glass - † -  
A . Gundam . Wing . Fic  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Is it wrong when I think about you? Is their some critical error in my mind they enables me to do so? It's so strange to me the way it happens. When my self pity rolls around to slap me in the face, I begin to wonder what you think of me. It's as if nobody matters but you. Though, when such thoughts occur, in my mind you always look down on me; you could never shed me a smile or a kind word, could you?  
  
Thinking of you is like an addiction to me. One too heavy to control. The only thing good about it is I don't risk withdrawal... I can't stop thinking of you. Even if I wanted to.  
  
  
  
  
Daylight streamed in through the partially opened blinds of Heero Yuy's room. It didn't bother the Wing pilot as much as it would have on a usual weekend, because this time he had already been awake.  
  
He had awoken sometime last night around 3 AM from, what he could only derive to be, something of a nightmare. He had been covered in a cold sweat, seeing in his mind a psychopathic Duo Maxwell cut his precious braid. He had then been kissed. Strangely, it wasn't the dream so much as the origin of the dream that bothered him.  
  
Dreams are based off of happenings in your subconscious brain activity when asleep. Had that reflected him wanting Duo to get a haircut? Was he critisizing himself on his vision? Was he secretly, even to himself, blaming himself on the bad quality of his way of reading people? Had he wanted Duo to kiss him? He stood beside the bed, and began to pace.  
  
Thinking straightly, his mind was clear to avoid the last question, and began with the easiest. His vision was fine. 'Perfect', even, and he knew it. It had to be something deeper than that. Something reflected off of a thought about Duo that day. Secretly, he was satisfied at a rather warm feeling the thought gave him. He must be getting close... or not.  
  
Whatever it was, it was probably better left alone. At least that's the conclusion he came to. He was probably the only one up at this hour to begin with, anyway, so he would have time to start the coffee and get a head start on some computer work.  
  
He slipped on a white wife-beater type of shirt, with a jade short-sleeved over shirt on top. He wore casual jeans, and his hair seemed as wild as ever before. He traveled through the upstairs hallway, and on down the stairway. He proceeded through the downstairs hallway, only to pause as he passed the den entrance. The curtains were pulled shut, though being the light blue pastel colouring they were, the room was still dimly illuminated by the sun, soaking through the cloth.  
  
He thought to step in and check on the braided boy, but hesitated remembering his dream again. Forcing back the thought of his nightmare the night before, he stepped into the room, being as quiet as possible as to not disturb the room's occupant, if he happened to be still asleep. Oddly, the room was in order, unlike it had been all the four weeks Duo had spent in it. To add to the silence of the room, was its vacancy.  
  
Holding back an expression of mild confusion, Heero stepped back out and set back upon his journey to the kitchen. He heard the sound of the coffee pot, before even opening the door, and paused. He slowly extended a hand to press against the hard wood, and peered in. Seeing nothing, at first, he stepped in silently, looking around again.  
  
"Ohayoo..." Duo nearly appeared like Shinigami himself, sitting at the far end of the kitchen table, staring blankly into a mug of coffee, and watching the steam rise slowly. His eyes were distant with darkness and his skin pale, to add to this he looked extremely tired, if not ill.  
  
"Hn..." The Wing pilot blinked, lifting an eyebrow slowly in Duo's direction. Letting just a bit of curiosity overcome him, he slowly stepped towards the table, and around to where the braided pilot was sitting. At his movement, Duo looked up at him in confusion.   
  
Heero reached around to to the other boy's back and laid his hand on the long braid trailing down the American's spine. Face becoming blank itself, he muttered, and drew back his hand, to walk over towards the coffee. "...still there."  
  
The braided pilot, reached back and pulled the braid over his shoulder, and looked at it, "Eh? My braid?" He blinked up at Heero, who was now across the kitchen pouring himself a cup of coffee.  
  
The Japanese pilot, glanced at him out of the corner of his eyes and nodded, "You're braid's still there."  
  
Blank silence.  
  
Heero shrugged, and headed back to his room towards his laptop, but before he was out of the kitchen, he turned back, placing the American with a frigid glare, "Can you walk yet?"  
  
Nodding, and still feeling blank, Duo stood, and walked about halfway across the room, to stand by the counter. He did so successfully, the only trouble he had was caused by the cast that still remained on his ankle. Due to his good health condition, and some wild extra ingrediant in Quatre's tea, the bone was almost finished healing at the four week mark of it's break. He smiled, lightly, "At least I don't half to sit on the couch all day anymore. That got old... Really fast." He frowned back down at his coffee. He didn't even know why he had made it. He destested the flavour of the substance, and he hadn't gotten any sleep the night before anyway.  
  
"..." The stoic boy's cobalt eyes had set their gaze on the cast around Duo's ankle, and then moved back up to the boy's face. "...Hn."  
  
Duo stood puzzled as he watched Heero walk away, leaving him alone in the kitchen. His energy wasn't at its normal hype compared to the days he did get sleep, and he wasn't keen on being left alone in confusion. In desperate need of something to do, he followed the boy.  
  
  
  
Not a full 30 seconds after Heero had set himself down at his computer than the door opened, allowing entrance to the American pilot. Last time he had come in here it led to a broken ankle, even the week before the broken ankle it had led to a split lip, and even before that there was a trace of memories like a stubbed toe, and a near concusion, injuries were nothing new to Duo Maxwell, nor were they to the Japanese pilot, and it didn't look like the pattern was getting any clearer to the American.  
  
There was a soft thud as the American plopped onto Heero's bed, and sighed. "What 'cha doin'?"  
  
"E-mail." Came the other boy's blunt reply.  
  
"Aa..." He watched as Heero's blank expression stayed to the screen of the laptop. "Heero?"  
  
"Hn." More clicking of the keys, as the windows on the screen changed several times, pulling up a a scroll of addresses and new mail. It was obvious that the perfect soldier's attention now went only to his laptop.  
  
Duo frowned and swung his feet back and forth from the edge of Heero's bed. "Um... Why don't you ever smile?" the question came from no where. His face squenched up as if expecting a fist to come flying and hit him in the face. Though, after a few moments of silence, he opened his eyes to look at the stoic pilot who was paying absolutely no attention to him.  
  
Heero's eyes scanned the information absorbing the text and filing it into his mind. "We have a mission." He spoke monotoniously. No, he hadn't heard the question.  
  
A frown crossed the American's lips just as Heero turned to his direction, a look of realization dawning on the Japanese boy's face suddenly, "Did you say something, Duo?" He blinked, sending a rather quizzical look at the boy on his bed.  
  
Duo lifted himself, walking towards the door, "No... Don't worry about it." He shrugged, and then paused at the door, as he saw Heero was heading in the same direction, "Actually, yes."  
  
The Wing pilot lifted an eyebrow at Duo as he was approaching the doorway.  
  
"Why don't you ever smile?" The braided pilot, looked up to meet Heero's gaze, a shiver running down his spine at the icy blue of his eyes of the other boy, now piercing him with a glare.   
  
Heero had beautiful eyes, Duo thought to himself and then wondered why he had so often failed to notice when he had seen the other boy's cobalt gaze before. He had only in the past seen a blue that matched the eyes of Heero Yuy; that was of Mother Mary's blue robes on the stained glass window in Maxwell church. He was almost hypnotised by the other boy's glare, and tried to look away, however unsuccessful he was.  
  
The boy was silent as he glared at the boy infront of him. "I don't have anything to smile about." Something about this scenario was familiar to him. Duo had been asking him odd questions in his dream, as well. The Japanese pilot almost decided to pinch himself, questioning whether he was awake or not. 'This is another weird dream isn't it?' He questioned no one in his mind.  
  
A deeper frown was apparent on Duo's face as he saw something in the back of Heero's eyes flicker. An uncomfortable feeling, but it was quickly gone. "Well, better get the others, if there's a mission." He was still trying to break the gaze, but he couldn't bring himself to do it.  
  
"...Hn." The Wing pilot shoved past Duo and out into the hall without another word. Gaze broken. He ignored the other boy's groan of pain as the American was pushed into the dresser in Heero's hurry to get out of the room. 'Something always happens. Can't break tradition.'  
  
"Oww... My back."  
  
  
  
Upon entrance to the kitchen it was apparent Wufei was up, as he sat at the table in a usually calm mood, with the newspaper spread out before him. Quatre still looked out of it, and was refilling the coffee pot as Trowa was pulling out the necessary items to cook breakfast with. There was a light mutter of morning greetings as Heero entered the kitchen closely followed by Duo. It was pretty much safe to say that none of the gundam pilots were morning people.  
  
"We have a mission!" Duo chirped, as he skipped across the room, to take a seat at the table, smacking Wufei in the back of the head with his braid in doing so.  
  
The Chinese pilot glared at him, grunted, and turned back to the blurry text of the newspaper before registering what had been said. He blinked in an unintelligible manner and looked over at Heero. "We do?"  
  
"...Hai." He leaned back against the counter and glanced around to see Trowa and Quatre had paused to stare at him along with the two at the table. "I'm still waiting to be sent further instructions upon by what means we have to conduct our mission, though."  
  
Wufei's eyes turned back to the paper, which was flipped to page two and looked back, "Does this have to do with the blockade on L2?"  
  
Heero's gaze stilled on Wufei, as he lifted an eyebrow slowly, "I haven't been informed on any happenings lately. Most of the news in those papers are Earth related, and I haven't had a chance to watch the news on the TV in a few weeks." A small glare was directed to the braided boy in the chair beside Wufei, "That's why I was waiting for more information."  
  
"I haven't heard about a blockade either." Trowa glanced at the Chinese boy and his newspaper, "Is there something about it in there?"  
  
Nodding, Wufei tossed the newspaper, folded to the correct page onto the counter before the three standing pilots and stood to lean against the kitchen table behind him, nobody seemed to notice Duo's silence at the mention of his home. He began to explain, "The colony was found to be holding a major rebel movement who were taking over bases. Their manner of work was going rather slowly, so I guess it wasn't thought of to be mentioned on headlines or anything, but it seems now their taking mobil suits and all. They've taken control of the majority of bases on the colony, and now their threat of moving the colony, and even self destruction."  
  
Quatre, now pouring himself a cup of coffee and adding the neccessary additions, looked up slowly, "You don't mean to tell me, there's some big button laying around in one of those bases with a sign reading 'press me to blow up the colony', do you? I would think that this would be easily taken care of by the--"  
  
"Some of those are probably just rumours." Trowa countered the blond quickly.  
  
"True, but there is a threat, none-the-less." Wufei looked seriously back towards Heero, "There are now OZ troupes blockading the colony, threatening to destroy it. Though, the rebels seem to just want destruction of the bases on the colony. If they destroy the bases there will be no military supply for OZ at the colony and the colonists living there think that will protect them from any further damage caused by the war."  
  
"And if OZ destroys the colony?" Duo's voice was unpatterned and shakey. He looked more pale than he had when Heero had first seem him upon entrance of the kitchen that morning.   
  
The boy in his white pants and royal blue shirt turned his black eyed glance towards the suddenly silent pilot, "Then OZ will loose their own bases, destroy millions of lives, and have even more power than they do already. The blow will be a tough one, loosing so many lives. It's likely to shorten the war, but it will sacrifice many... It's too many deaths due to an apparently vain cause." He looked back at the stoic pilot who was cataloguing this information slowly across the room, "What exactly were the mission instructions?"  
  
Heero took a small breath before beginning, "The mission plans were simply to defuse the control base, AAVL2, on the colony without risking shutting down the colony itself, since most operations such as oxygen generators, weather controls, and such are operated from the main control base--"  
  
"In otherwards, shut down that base, disabling all of the others, without performing a still on stabilization and life support controls? Is that possible?" The blond Arabian's face was one of horror as he turned away from his coffee cup, "One error, and we could destroy that colony on our own! We can't take a risk like that! It's... It's massacre, if not suicide as well! If something goes wrong, or we're detected this could be mistaken for an another attempt at operation meteor, except this time we're using a different colony!" He shook his head quickly, "No. There is no way I can get involved in this."  
  
The Japanese pilot gave the blond a medium temperatured glare, "It can be done safely if we have a distraction for the blockade, and perform the hacks correctly. A barrier can be made to block off the circuits controlling the colony's life stabalization units. I can take care of that with little difficulty."  
  
"It sounds dangerous... If you get caught entering the colony they might bring reinforcements. The blockade is already huge, even if the rest of us remained outside to--" Trowa was cut off quickly as the Chinese boy rolled his eyes.  
  
"That's why we need distractions. It can be organized simply. Two of us will gaurd the colony to fight off anyone who sees Heero enter, there are bound to be a few. The other two will be the distraction, at a safe distance away from the colony so as to keep them away from the two guards and Heero, who is going in, but at a range so that if additional assitance is needed inside the colony or in defense, someone can be called in." Wufei looked to Trowa and Quatre, both leaning against the counter in front of the sink. "You two can handle distraction, while Maxwell and I handle defense. Heero will be inside the colony, so it should all work out well."  
  
Quatre shook his head slowly, "I'll do it, but it still sounds like an awfully risky plan." His gaze moved up to Heero, "You can't be distracted in the slightest. This is tempting an ill fate to a colony who just wants to be excluded from the war, if any mistakes are made..."  
  
"It'll work out." The Japanese pilot's voice was stern. "I'm going to check for any additional information that was sent..." His gaze drifted to Duo who sat silently facing the floor, "I'm sure it can be done safely."  
  
The American pilot looked up feeling that Heero's voice was directed towards him, though, the 01 pilot was already leaving the kitchen. Even with the devastating news that had just been delivered, he felt somewhat lighter; Heero had actually offered him some comfort in the situation, no matter how vague or miniscule it was. it was there. He nodded, glancing at the others who were all in an eerie sort of silence.  
  
As against any cheerfulness, as he was right now, he plastered a large grin on his face, hiding the despair he was feeling behind his eyes. "C'mon, guys, lighten up! It's just like a challenge! We can do this easy!" He stood up out of his chair, only to see Wufei's eyes narrow at him in a glare.  
  
"This is your colony, Maxwell." He sneered, "You're home could be gone in less than an hour if they started firing now. This is more than some challenge, or game. We've hardly ever had to risk this many lives in one mission. It's time to get serious, and thinking of this mission as some trivial challenge is all but serious." He crossed his arms across his challenge, picking up the newspaper again.  
  
Duo felt his face burning as the grief within him began boiling over with rage, and glared back at the Chinese boy. But no, he couldn't ruin this mask, he still needed it in tact when this mission was over. He calmed himself quickly, letting a usual amount of anger to arise within him, "I am serious." He let his smile drop and turn into the best look of determination he could muster, and thought of what Heero had said. If Heero said we could do it, then I know we can, "I have confidence that we can do this without losing the colony." But, that was all he could bring himself to say.  
  
'If I could, I would give my life for that colony. I would give up everything to save the people there... And... To save my memories. I have to show them they can be proud of me. I never got to say goodbye to him... I want him to be proud of me.' His mind drifted, and his face must have turned to some extent sullen, as now all of them were glancing in his direction curiously.  
  
Quatre's frown broke into a smile and he nudged Trowa softly, "You're right, Duo. We can do this."  
  
At this Wufei rolled his eyes, and snatched the paper from the countertop, wordlessly heading off towards the den, but he silently agreed. 'Nataku will help me. It is not justice that OZ could do such things, therefor Nataku will help me. We will succeed.'  
  
  
  
Heero entered the kitchen again, face drawn, "We leave tomorrow evening. We will be staying in the L1 colony and will head out in two days from there. Talks will not resume between the colony and OZ until Wednesday, so we have three days to await before we even need to start worrying about anything."  
  
The other tree kitchen occupants nodded, and the Japanese pilot left to relay the information to Wufei, in the parlor.  
  
  
-------------------------------------------------» To Be Continued...  
  
- A/N - And now a word from our sponser:  
  
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	6. Part VI

- A/N - I've got to get my muse back before this story goes downhill. x_x That could be disasterous. Miri (my muse) happens to still be around, but she's processing ideas for other fanfiction, that I don't exactly wish to start writing until I'm finished with this one-- at least. All of my fanfiction has been put on hold for this fic and my Weiss Kreuz fic, Reasons of Insanity. Yes, I am making an effort to actually finish one of my GW chapter fics! It's a miracle (I've never finished one before)! Though, on with the contents of the fic:   
  
This was originally planned to be a 4-part GW fic about Duo and Heero. That's NOT how it is turning out to be. Here we are at part 6, and I'm STILL going. When this story is over I'll post the notes of how the story was planned out and mapped. It's getting more difficult to write this because my notes are of little use to me now, and I have to improvise and come up with new stuff to fill in spaces. Now I have to actually write about the whole mission. I actually don't know what happened to mess this fic up so much. But it's turning out ok, right? ...Right?  
  
Thanks to Kali-K, Autumn, SilverShinigami (Do cat's go through puberty? O_o), and lexington for their wonderful, and much appreciated reviews!   
  
- Disclaimer - Fanfiction: n. (wrd. ln.) Ficticious tales written by and for the fans. || Now. Any 3 year old could process that if I'm writing this and posting it here, it is most obviously fanfiction. Maybe if I renamed myself something like Bandai...   
  
- Contact - AIM me at Hoshichiri or e-mail me at Hoshichiri@aol.com.  
  
- Warning - None.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
- † - Broken Glass - † -  
A . Gundam . Wing . Fic  
  
  
  
  
  
  
I am Shinigami when I enter my cockpit. It's such a small closed in area, where no one can see me, without my confirmation. Death Scythe has a policy: Leave your masks at the hatch. Shinigami has never made me hesitant to obey it. When I do, I feel more safe in my gundam than I do anywhere else. I can go anywhere without being seen; free.  
  
Shinigami feels free in his gundam; but Duo Maxwell dosen't. I've come to accept that horrible things always happen when I take off my mask, people get hurt, I get hurt, and I'm becoming more and more reluctant to deal with it. Why can't I keep my mask on within my Gundam? Is it because I'm alone?  
  
I know though, when I left my cockpit at that docking bay on L1, I left my mask behind.  
  
  
  
Around 2 AM, the five gundam pilots had secretly docked their gundams within the abandoned hangers of dock-3 area C-62. All 30 L1 docks were always kept operational, but were never in use past the B areas. Each dock had areas labeled A, B, and C, each area had exactly 62 docking bays, and C areas were never operational. Docking was easy, at the back of the unused area, and it prevented others from tampering-- or even discovering-- the gundams.   
  
They arrived at the hotel around 2:50 AM, in a taxi cab. Duo and Heero happened to be the only one's awake at this late hour, when they arrived in front of the large hotel. Wufei claimed to have been only meditating, but even Duo, now near sleep himself, was too tired to argue that he had heard the Chinese boy snoring. And, when Heero returned from check-in, everyone was asleep.  
  
The cab-driver had been paid already and was leaning against the hotel wall having a smoke, away from his car, when the stoic Japanese pilot came out into the cool night air, from the hotel lobby. The boy opened the door and leaned in, "Wake up."  
  
Wufei snapped his eyes open immediately, giving the Arabian beside him a shove. The blond woke up, lifting his head from Trowa's shoulder, and in the process, waking up his silent lover from the absence of weight. The only one that remained asleep was Duo, who had curled up comfortably using the space from Heero's vacant seat.   
  
The silent pilot, sitting beside Duo, gave the sleeping American a tough shove of his own, as the other two climbed out through the opposite door of the taxi. The braided pilot let loose something of a growl at Trowa, but did not raise from his nap. Shrugging, the other pilot evacuated the cab as well.  
  
Heero left the Death Scythe pilot asleep in the back of the van as he handed out room keys to the other three, who were now pulling luggage out of the back of the cab. He handed a key card to Quatre and Trowa who would be sharing a room and one to Wufei, "You'll be sharing with Duo."  
  
"Maxwell!?" The Chinese boy, narrowed his eyes feircely at the Japanese pilot, "I'm not rooming with that thing! How am I supposed to focus on anything when he's constantly bouncing around and yelling! I'm not doing it, Yuy." He shoved the key card back at Heero.  
  
Glaring, and not really in the mood to argue at the current hour, he jerked the room key back. "Fine, take my room." He inwardly cringed, that he would now be sharing a room with the braided nightmare, and handed over the key card to the only single room.   
  
Wufei looked pleased, nodded, and gave him a look that read, 'Good luck with THAT guy.'  
  
Everyone began trudging into the hotel, sleepily, to find thier rooms, leaving Heero and a sleeping Duo. Walking back to the cab, Heero shook the American gently by the shoulder, trying to wake him up. "Duo... Wake up."  
  
The sleeping form of the American, made an essence of innocence fill the air. The boy's breathing was light, in sleep, and his eyes shut peacefully. The Japanese pilot frowned, looking down at him, unable to wake him up. He hoisted his and Duo's bags onto his back, and shut the trunk softly, walking to the back seat, again. He had done this several times before, so it wouldn't be any different, now.  
  
He leaned in, drawing one arm behind the American's back, and one under his legs-- it was a good thing the luggage was light, or this might have been really difficult. He lifted the boy slowly from the car, pausing when he stirred, and pulled him up to lean against his chest as he closed the cab door.  
  
Walking into the lobby, he pressed the elevator arrow pointing up, and waiting for the machine to arrive. The lights in the lobby were rather bright, and Duo twitched, his eyes flickering open for a split moment. He was starting to wake up, "Heero..?"  
  
The Japanese pilot moved his blue eyed gaze to look at Duo, who was waking up. "Hn."  
  
The braided pilot, unable to remain coherent, mumbled something, and wrapped his arms around Heero's neck, pulling himself up to bury his face in the crook of the Wing pilot's shoulder and neck. He was asleep again almost instantly.  
  
Stepping into the elevator, as the doors opened, Heero pressed the button for the third floor, and glanced uncomfortably at the sleeping form in his arms. He silently vowed that if any of the others bore witness to this, this night, they would be dead before morning.  
  
Everyone else seemed to have already settled into their rooms, when he opened the door to room 244, he flipped the lights on by the switch at the door, and shut the door behind him. Silently, he stepped over to the bed nearest the window and set the sleeping form upon the matress. Duo rolled over immediately when set upon the bed, and buried his face in the blanket-covered pillow.  
  
The Japanese pilot set their bags down infront of the dresser, upon which the TV sat, and rubbed his own weary eyes for a moment. He walked back over to the bed nearest the window, where Duo was trying to fit his arms under the pillow, which was covered by a blanket, and pulled the covers back for the sleepy boy to get under, instead of sleeping ontop of the comforter. Though, before the braided boy could pull the covers up around his neck, Heero pulled both of Duo's legs to the floor, removing the braided boy's boots as quickly as possible, and sliding them back under the covers.  
  
Heero trudged to the light switch by the door, blinding himself in the sudden darkness, as he flicked the switch off, and stumbled towards his own bed. He fell against the soft mattress instantly, forgetting about the covers or even his own shoes. He was in bliss, and slowly let his eyes shut.  
  
Without warning, a loud shuffling was heard from Duo's side of the room, and the lamp between the two beds was flipped on. Blinded once more, by opening his eyes, Heero glared at the braided boy, now sitting on the edge of his bed, staring straight at him, and let a small groan rise from within him.   
  
Duo didn't move or say anything, but continued to stare at Heero, right into his cobalt blue eyes.  
  
"What?" The Japanese pilot forced himself up from his bed, and blinked at the braided pilot, resisting the urge to throttle him, then and there.  
  
The American forced his gaze down to stare at his socked feet, now hanging off of the side of his bed, "It's too quiet..."  
  
Heero rolled his eyes, "It's supposed to be quiet when you go to sleep."  
  
"...And the sheets are cold."  
  
"They'll heat up after you've laid on them for a while." He let himself drop back onto the bed, facing the ceiling.  
  
"...And I'm afraid."  
  
"You--" Heero paused and turned his head to face the American, who's smile was all forgotten as his violet eyes looked up in sadness. He blinked at Duo's downcast face, and deep violet eyes. "...Hn." Was all he could say, except for wondering what Duo was afraid of.  
  
The braided pilot's frown deepened suddenly, and his eyes flickered in something resembling hurt. What was he doing? Heero didn't care about his problems. He shook his head, "Nevermind." And, reaching up, he switched off the light, laying back down on his bed, motionless, his rather loud breathing was ragged, and the braided boy held back what he could only determine to be a sob.  
  
Looking through the sudden blackness, Heero sat up on the edge of his bed, and looked at Duo, lying motionless in the moonlight that seeped through creme-coloured curtains. "Duo..."  
  
There was a sudden sound from the braided boy, and he quickly rolled over to bury his face in his pillow, letting his body tremour, as he let another sob escape into his pillow. He could already feel tears escaping from his eyes, and soaking into his pillow.  
  
This was odd, Duo crying right before him, and trying his best to muffle it in a pillow. Heero sat, in confusion. Had he done something? What was he supposed to do? He frowned, and lifted himself, to sit on his knees beside Duo's bed, and laid a hand on the braided boy's shoulder, "Duo."  
  
Lifting himself from the pillow, Duo turned his tearstained face towards the Japanese boy beside his bed. He tried to hold back another sob, but failed to succeed and frowned, "I'm sorry..."  
  
"For what?" Heero narrowed his eyes, confusion clearly seem across his face.  
  
"For... bothering you. Nevermind." He shook his head, closing his eyes, and laid back against the pillow. "I'll be quiet. You can go to sleep."  
  
Letting a frown escape his emotionless mask, Heero paused, "Is something wrong?"  
  
Duo bit his lip, and rolled onto his back, forcing a smile, "Oi, Hee-chan, you've never been one to pry."  
  
Heero let the name pass this time, as he saw the braided boy's smile instantly break into another sob. The American was really believable with so many of his smiles, but this one was definately a failing job. His eyes stung, seeing the other boy trying to paste his smile back on and failing miserably.   
  
The braided boy had always had the feeling that Heero saw deeper than his usual grin, and this time was one of the few, when he new his mask was breaking. Why did it have to be infront of Heero, though? Why wouldn't his smile stick? He felt another sob come, and looked up at Heero, trying to avoid the boys eyes. He failed, and his eyes met instantly with the cobalt blues of the boy beside his bed.  
  
He felt himself calm almost instantly, looking into the boy's eyes, and his sobbing stopped. He rolled onto his side, staring at Heero, and brought out in the strongest voice he had, "Can you really stop the colony from... Ya know?"  
  
The blue eyes of the Japanese pilot softened a great deal, and he was silent for a small time, "I will try..."  
  
"No." Duo shook his head and propped himself up by one of his elbows, "Promise me you will."  
  
Heero's eyes hardened and his gaze turned cold as he stood again, flopping onto his own bed, silent.  
  
"Promise me, Heero." The braided pilot's violet gaze narrowed, and he pulled himself up, and over to the Wing pilot's bed, sitting and staring into Heero's back, trying to make the other pilot turn and face him.  
  
"I promise I will try--"  
  
"Promise me you'll do it." Duo's words were sharp, cutting the other boy's monotonious reply off with ease.  
  
Heero turned, eyes more fierce than cold than the American was used to-- Duo suppressed a shudder of fear-- and he spoke in simple, sharp words, accompanied by a voice more frigid than his glare, "I will not make promises if there is a chance I cannot keep them. If I fail, don't make me suffer more of my guilt in Hell, because I lied to you."  
  
His gaze falling to the cover of the bed below him, the Death Scythe pilot suppressed the sobs that now pounded within him to reapproach. Heero's words were bitter, and even negative to a subject he found more touchy than it should have been. "Then if you do fail... You'll still get out alive, right?" His cheeks were burning red in the darkness, and he was thankful for the black of the room. He felt Heero's glare soften and return to confusion.  
  
"If I can." He paused seeing Duo's head jerk away suddenly, "It will be difficult, but I'm sure there's a way."  
  
A nod, seen only by the bobbing of the American's braid, and a sigh. "Do you think it would be ok... If I went in to the colony, too?"  
  
Heero forwned, "You need to help Wufei in defense if they start coming after me. They'll need you--"  
  
"You might need me more than you think." Duo glanced at his roomate, again, "There is a large chance you'll need help getting into the base, and with so many bases already occupied by rebels on the colony, they won't want you entering their main base... I also need to visit some people..." He mumbled the last part almost silently, and glanced up at Heero who was looking insanely tired at this point.  
  
Rolling back over, and feeling his eyelids tug closed, he sighed, "We'll see."  
  
Lighting up, instantly, the braided boy leaned over, partially on top of the Japanese pilot and hugged him tightly, "Arigatou, Hee-chan!" He ignored the boy's soft breathing, a sign of sleep, and tugged his braid loose, stumbling over to collapse upon his own bed. "Oyasumi..."  
  
No sooner had he laid down a shut his eyes, the phone rang. Heero was quick to reawaken and answer the device with a low growl, "What?"  
  
The voice on the other side of the line was slightly jumpy, but could never-the-less be identified as Chang Wufei, "Yuy, we've got trouble. They rescheduled the peace talks over the L2 colony blockade to Tokyo, taking place there at three in the afternoon, which was five hours ago for us here in L1, due to time zone changing. Talks haven't been going well... OZ is threatening to destroy the colony any minute now... We're in trouble."  
  
Heero's eyes bulged, as he nearly dropped the phone. He clicked the light on, and Duo rolled over groaning to hide his face in a pillow. "Inform Quatre and Trowa, we'll meet at the set rondevouz point for the originally scheduled mission, in exactly one hour."  
  
At hearing Heero's part of the conversation Duo sat up, swinging off the bed and looking exasperatedly at the Japanese pilot. He mouthed silently, worry filling his violet eyes, "What's happening?"  
  
"Right, we'll have to hurry, though. They could start fire any minute." The phone clicked, and Heero slammed it down, darting to his bag, as soon as the phone was out of his hand.  
  
"What's happening?!" The braided pilot frantically began pulling on his boots.  
  
"I'll tell you on the way." Pulling from the bag the small Wing mission log, from before, he tucked it into the pocket of his black jacket, and threw it over his shoulder as they headed for the door. On the way past the coffee machine he pulled the key card and slipped it into his pocket as well, and the left to the L1 hanger.  
  
  
  
-------------------------------------------------» To Be Continued...  
  
- A/N - This chapter was kind of weird to write. Thank God I'm speeding it up to the mission, and we'll see some action soon, ne? Yay! *Cheers*  
  
Oh and no, I'm not quite sure how all 5 of the pilots managed to fit into the backseat of a taxi cab, but... Er... Put it this way: This is atleast a hundred years from now. Humanity has evolved, right? ^^;; Riiight...  
  
Oh yeah... And they didn't brush their teeth before they went to bed! Tsk tsk! Even if they didn't really get to sleep... Oral hygene is a good thing. _ Actaully, I hate it. 


End file.
